to get six hundred and forty acres of land that lies right pretty, rolling hills and level benches, with a stream of living water running clear through it. There’s no claim recorded just near except McDermott’s down the trail and a little to the east.”
His declaration was hailed with shouts of joy by the children. “I’m sure I can keep us in game and fish this winter,” said Manuel with the air of one assuming a grave responsibility.
“And I can trap and hunt a little, too,” asserted Asa. “I’m goin’ to make a figure-four trap to-morrow and start right in catchin’ rabbits.”
“Six hundred and forty acres o’ land with no taxes ter pay yet awhile,” gloated Uncle Adzi. “A hull square mile rich an’ deep an’ black with fine livin’ water and plenty o’ timber, only three-quarters of a mile from the settlement as the crow flies.”
“Most of the settlers went up the valley,” said John. “They think the land is better up there. There’s over fifty farms with fruit trees bearing and cattle and hogs and sheep and poultry up on a stretch they call French Prairie.”
“I can’t see no sense in leavin’ the settlement. We gotter look to the easiest haul ter git our craps ter market, and thet there river’—he waved his hand with a sweeping gesture toward the Willamette—“beats all the wagon roads thet air been built yit.”
“1’m glad to stay here,” said Martha. “The children will be able to go to school all the time here; there’ll surely be a school organized before the winter’s over.”
“Yer mother could larn ye children ef she had ter,”
